


And Your Longing Makes You Shiver to the Bone

by eveljerome



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dark Will, Emotional Manipulation, Ficlet Collection, Food is People, Ghost Hunters, Ghost Will, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Harassment, Hospitals, Lies, M/M, Masturbation, Murder, Murder Husbands, Prompt Fill, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Receptionist Will, Secretary Will, Sort Of, Will Finds Out, and also implied:, brain scans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveljerome/pseuds/eveljerome
Summary: Short/-ish prompt fills from tumblr, general and nsfw.1. I’m a ghost and you’re a ghost hunter au2. nsfw: psychiatrist Hannibal and receptionist Will3. Receptionist Will and psychiatrist Hannibal4. “I’ve had a brain scan before and this is not my brain” & Will figures it out





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if there's something that i've forgotten to tag, drop me a comment and i'll add it!
> 
> first fic for hannigram ♥️ i'm very excited about writing for this ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from a [prompt list](http://lonely-lucretia.tumblr.com/post/99399784683/aus): I’m a ghost and you’re a ghost hunter au - but with a twist

Will was walking up the stairs that were no longer there again when the front door opened. It’s been a while since anyone living had been in the house. There was only him, but there was no living for him.

Will Graham was a ghost.

A stabbing in New Orleans gone bad and now all he could do was follow and haunt anyone near his own murder weapon. Haunting-wise it was a good object to choose and focus on. It was always near more violence. Some Will stopped, some he observed. Others, he influenced to see that crimson blood spill and spatter. 

Will Graham wasn’t a saint. So sue him. 

While living he had checked himself and avoided the more darker desires. His sense of self and morality kept him in check. Death changed things. His imagination hadn't gone anywhere. It was only joined with curiosity.

 

~~  
The new tenant was a lot more interesting than Will expected or anticipated. 

Hannibal Lecter. Will spied through the man’s wardrobe, chuckling at the number of suits and paisley decorating them. It did look good on him, that was true. 

But what was most curious—and dangerous, definitely dangerous—was the overwhelming smell of death that surrounded Hannibal Lecter. It wasn’t anything a living person could smell, no. It was something only other dead things would notice. 

And Will noticed. 

Realizing who others in Hannibal’s acquaintance circle were was less good. Here the danger part came in. Because it turned out that Hannibal Lecter—for all his sophisticated suits, and human-filled dinners, art on the walls and wondrous music waking Will up each mornings—was a ghost hunter.

He wasn’t a typical ghost hunter, true. Having a hand in creating several apparitions filled with fear and anger himself. Which is why Will was more than surprised that Hannibal didn’t seem to be aware that he was in his house. Perhaps more to do that Will wasn’t haunting the entire house, only the knife: tossed into a corner of the attic, still with blood on it. Had it been the basement, it would have been picked up already—Will had looked over the installation of freezers and saws there.

 

~~  
In the end Will lost patience waiting on Hannibal to notice him. He stood right behind him in the kitchen, looking over his shoulder. Observing what Hannibal was slicing on a board. Blood was still dripping from the liver, staining the wood. It looked so alive on the knife.

“You should add garlic. It would add a kick, round out the mild carrots.”

It was only thanks to the fact that Will was already dead that he wasn’t bleeding on the tiles right now. Hannibal had twisted and slashed right through the place where Will’s blood used to flow in the neck when he was still living. 

“Ouch.” He couldn’t help the smirk. “Had I been alive that would have hurt. But I’m serious about the garlic.”

“I was thinking peppers. But garlic works as well.” Hannibal had tilted his head, as if the situation was normal, but the way he was gripping the knife still betrayed him. Will had spend enough time observing him to know his tells. 

“Hmm. Hot peppers might be too much. Garlic is milder. And goes better with carrots.” Taking a ghostly step backwards, he smiled at Hannibal, “I’m Will.”

Hannibal stayed quiet, observing Will for a moment. What he was wearing, the style of the clothes to gage how long ago Will had died. The stab wound the the shoulder. “Hello, Will.”

 

~~  
It took Hannibal only six hours to locate Will’s knife. He came back with it to kitchen where Will had decided to wait and see what Hannibal would decide to do. There was definite danger to it—destruction of the knife would mean destruction of Will. 

While he had some attachment to Hannibal already from observing him, there wasn’t yet enough to shift his complete focus on him. To haunt him. Follow him everywhere he went and see everything he did.

Perhaps Will was obsessed enough already.

But for now he wanted to see what Hannibal would do. Curious what he would decide.

Hannibal stopped across the counter from Will, testing the heft of the knife, it’s sharpness. He had washed the blood off, looking at his own reflection in it. Touching the edge he punctured his finger, and blood welled up.

Will couldn’t stop the gasp. Hannibal’s blood on the knife sent an almost orgasmic feeling through him. And definitely attracted all of Hannibal’s attention to him, and only him. As if nothing else existed, only Will, trapped in Hannibal’s intense gaze. 

“Do it again.” Will whispered, moving a step forwards, stopping right at the counter’s edge. 

Hannibal obliged. Will moaned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filled my own [prompt](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/294749) on pillowfort: where Will is looking for a job and instead of taking up the dogwalker position becomes Dr. Lecter's receptionist.

Will’s eyes kept returning to the add. 

‘Receptionist wanted.  
Courtesy and manners are a must. All job training will be provided.’

It wasn’t what he was looking for, it wasn’t in his wants or skills if he was honest with himself. He was much better suited to the dogwalker position. Both add were next to one another, but the receptionist one kept drawing him in. 

Something about it just was .. alluring. The font used, the wording, the foreign sounding ‘Hannibal Lecter, M.D.’ at the bottom of the add. A doctor’s receptionist sounded like a much worse decision. 

Will was just about all done with doctors. His shoulder was healing well, and physical therapy was something he could do at home. Getting out of police department on a disability seemed fine until the inevitable bills got to him. 

Really, he should just pick up the phone and call the dog walking agency and say how much he loved dogs. But, when he started dialing and was listening to the dial tone Will wasn’t at all surprised to hear,

“Dr. Lecter’s office, how may I help you today?”

 

~~  
The office was at an upscale neighborhood and nowhere near a hospital. 

Will almost wanted to turn on his heel and catch the quickest bus to the dog walking agency and beg them to take him on when he noticed the ‘psychiatrist’ added after Dr. Lecter’s name. With the deepest sigh, he deliberated for whole three minutes whether to stay or go, shuffling the snow off the porch steps.

In the end it wasn’t his decision, but the door to the office opening that made up his mind. To be more precise, it was the voice saying, “Will Graham?” that made him look up and stop breathing for a second.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was a looker. Will gulped down and nodded, his feet already moving him towards his, definitely his, new employer. That voice, and that suit, and wow, the front room was looking good too. 

But that didn’t prepare for how intricate looking was Dr. Lecter’s office itself. “Wow. This, is, wow.” Will let his eyes roam the room, running from the upper balcony with all the books, to the ladder and more books. Shelves and artwork and an intricate stag statue near the back wall.

“Please sit.” Dr. Lecter indicated one of the chairs.

“Yes, I will.” 

Only a second later Will realized that he said that out loud. Blushing, he stammered, “I’m sorry. That. I’m not sure i’m the best candidate for this position.” Really, he had no idea what he was doing here. Managing people was job for someone .. sociable. And he wasn’t it.

“And yet here you are.” There was a definite curios look on Dr. Lecter’s face, as if considering Will in a different light. 

 

~~  
The hours were more than reasonable, the pay even better, and he got full insurance coverage. All he had to do was sign contract.

And he did. Running his fingers across Dr. Lecter’s “please, call me Hannibal” name. 

Every conversation and every request Hannibal expressed got will obeying a lot quicker than at any workplace before in his life. There was definitely something to the way Hannibal talked. How he asked. As if the world would end—or worse, Hannibal would be disappointed in him—if Will didn’t do everything he could what was asked of him.

Will’s first shift would start in less than two hours. He didn’t feel ready, but that wasn’t going to stop him. With a last look in the mirror, he set out.

He was looking forwards to his first pay day, more than ready to get his car fixed so he wasn’t dependant on the public transportation anymore. 

 

~~  
The job was easier than Will expected. It was also harder than Will expected.

Or should he say that he was harder than expected when driving home, already thinking about how totally not professional was it to lust after his boss. But everything about Hannibal was sinful and Will couldn’t stop dreaming about the man. 

Definitely not how an employee should conduct himself. Will was sure that there was a line in his contract about harassment, but thinking about Hannibal’s smile directed towards him this evening thoroughly distracted him.

Slamming his front door behind him, Will dropped his keys on the floor and slumped against the wood separating him from the hallway. Just a few inches between him and an indecent exposure charge. 

His shoulder twinged from how quick he got out of the jacked and pushed one hand down the pants, but finally gripping his cock distracted him. 

His daily tortured involved having lunch with Hannibal. After the first time Will had tried eating out, Hannibal had frowned at him and insisted that Will eat with him. And the food, oh the food was perfect. Always presented with a flourish and that damnable smile Hannibal had. As if he knows something Will doesn’t.

Just looking across the table where Hannibal was taking something off the fork with his lips and teeth and tongue had Will a bit breathless. And he never could hide his appreciation of the food, unable to stop the inevitable moan from escaping. 

He was pretty sure Hannibal knew exactly how arousing he was, and was doing it to goad Will into acting.

Recalling today’s lunch, even more suggestive in it’s appearance than ever before, Will closed his eyes, to recall every moment and sense he had. He felt his cock spill precome down his hand and gripped it in his fist, squeezing down on it. 

Biting on his lower lip, Will tried to limit his noises, jerking his cock faster and faster. Imagining what Hannibal would say, he sighed and moaned aloud. Hannibal would tell him that he wanted to hear everything. Exactly how much he aroused Will. He came quicker than ever, harsh breaths filling his empty apartment. 

He should do something about this attraction, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a discussion in this [thread](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/294749) on pillowfort: where receptionist Will goes to see Dr. Lecter after an incident at his workplace. Someone had murdered his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to @whataboutthefish for the inspiring conversation on pillowfort! this is for you, and for me, and everyone who thinks that receptionist Will is a fun fun thing to have in a fic

Will had a standing appointment titled simply ‘p’ in his daily planner. 

The planner was his life, and his job as well. But he knew that his job came with stress and numerous headaches as well. Being a receptionist was challenging and fun. But mostly it was a rush to do something on a deadline.

Especially since the gruesome murder.

Thankfully Will was working for a highly successful law firm, and earned enough to get himself a well qualified psychiatrist. 

Walking in on a murder scene instead of his boss waiting for his coffee was something Will hadn’t anticipated. He had hoped to leave the blood and dead bodies behind him in New Orleans. He hadn’t dealt with it well back then, and wasn’t dealing well with it now. 

Which lead to the ‘p’ appointment. The psychiatrist. So far his sessions with Dr. Hannibal Lecter had been mild, more introductory in nature. The obligatory ‘how do you feel’ and abandonment issues “abandonment requires expectation”.

But it felt good to have a place to say all the things that he couldn’t to his coworkers. Or just a place to complain about his new boss. His ‘request’ and the implications towards Will’s employment if he didn’t follow through.

“Unreasonable.” 

Will had to nod his head. This here, this was why he was paying so much to Dr. Lecter—not only for having someone in his corner, but also seeing how the situation at work was unfair. “Yes.”

“What do you intend to do?” The question had a note of curiosity to it. 

“After the murder, the security installed a whole bunch of cameras all over the office. So my plan is to get the .. the harassment part of the video and submit it to Human Resources. Get him fired. They’ll probably want me to sue, but—.” Will sighed, rubbing at his head. 

“Will.” Hannibal stood up from his chair, walking towards Will’s and poured him a glass of water. He stayed while Will gratefully gulped it down. “It’s understandable that you want to forget about this incident.” 

Will couldn’t not miss the little upset frown Hannibal had on his face; as if Hannibal was genuinely upset on Will’s behalf. Ducking his head down, Will smiled to himself. It probably, definitely, wasn't professional from Dr. Lecter, but he liked that there was someone who cared for him.

 

~~  
Will didn’t have enough time to focus on the fact that his boss didn’t even show up to collect his belongings because he was moving to the 44th floor, working as a receptionist at the newly merged law firm. He was dogging arguments in the rec room and copying files for a big lawsuit, so to avoid the inevitable office inner relationships, which from what he heard in the rec room were numerous and complicated. 

Someone was sleeping with two of the junior partners, someone else was trying to backstab one of the senior partners. There was a theft of prune juice that had all the associates cowering, and paralegals were threatening a riot if the higher ups didn’t add enough green plants to the hallways. 

Will’s days were full and engaging. But it was better to stay out of the way of all of it. Work was good and pay was better than previously. Except. 

Except he ran over his hour session with Dr. Lecter talking about all the annoying and inhuman requests his current boss was putting on him. About a third of them had nothing to do with actual work, and it the requests would have been reasonable then Will would have done them regardless. But they weren’t.

Juggling around work hours Will got himself a five day vacation to take a break from it all. 

Getting back to work he didn’t think anything about the fact that his boss wasn’t in yet. He could get himself a morning coffee unhurriedly. As the day went on Will started to worry a bit. No matter how much of an asshole his boss was, he was always punctual. 

Will couldn’t get him on the phone, and roping one of the other receptionists he decided to get to his apartment. Especially since he was required to appear in court that day, and without his testimony their current case could fall apart. Mind you Will wouldn’t care much if it did fall apart—rich people getting richer and a new condominium project instead of a park for dogs wouldn’t be his decision. 

And he had complained about that lawsuit enough to Dr. Lecter already. Along with wishful sighs about the fact that he couldn’t have a dog and work the hours he did. 

 

~~  
It was the smell that hit him as soon as he and the other receptionist, Jimmy, walked off the elevator. There was only one door in front of him, and stepping closer to it, the smell only intensified. Will stopped in his tracks and grabbed Jimmy’s jacket. “We’re not gonna knock on that door.”

“Wha?” Looking up from his phone, where he was no doubt sexting with Brian, Jimmy looked from Will to the apartment door. “And why not?”

“Smell that?” Will swirled a finger in the air, pulling his phone out, dialling 911 already. “I walked in on one murder scene this year already. I don’t want to do that again.”

That was three bosses in a way too short a time period. Suspicious as hell, and Will didn’t want to think about all the attention this second murder scene would lay on him. Nope. And he was more than sure that the boss in between the two murders wasn’t breathing somewhere while sipping margaritas on a beach, which was the more popular theory among his coworkers.

There was only one person who knew all of Will’s issues with all three definitely-corpses bosses. Cussing Hannibal Lecter out in his thoughts Will got through a phone call with emergency services operator and sat down in the hallway to wait the police to show up. 

He was pretty sure that his near future would be filled with endless questions and perhaps an interrogation room. Thankfully Will had an ironclad alibi of being in New Orleans for the past five days, with a return flight early this morning. 

He also had one of the ‘p’ appointments for this evening in his daily planner. 

 

~~  
“They were very rude, Will.”

No remorse, Will noted. Either Hannibal Lecter was arrogant as hell, or he really was that good. He sighed, “Not really reason to kill them, Hannibal.” It seemed right to move from doctor-patient relationship to something else.

Another sigh while Hannibal launched into a detailed explanation of other crimes all three of his bosses were guilty of.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my own prompt, though i forgot to post it anywhere oops: “I’ve had a brain scan before and this is not my brain” au where Will figures it out. set during “Buffet Froid”, taking some lines at the start directly from the show, up until it diverges away

~~  
Sitting across from Hannibal was familiar, it felt safe. If there ever was a place where he could be honest—so much more honest than ever, ever—it was here. Talking about Abigail was painful, but necessary. “Abigail ended Nicholas Boyle like a burst balloon. She took a life.”

“You’ve taken a life.” 

There’s a bit of a cold look in Hannibal’s eyes at that and Will can’t help but respond in kind, “So have you.”

 

~~  
“Do you feel alive, Will?” 

“I feel like I’m fading.” 

 

~~  
“I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked through me, past me. Like I was a stranger.” Leaning against the ladder, hoping for stability he wasn’t feeling. Will could only look at Hannibal, approaching.

“You have to honestly confront your limitations with what you do and how it affects you.” 

Close, so close, Will could feel breath catch in his throat. Hannibal had him between the ladder and the rest of the room. Making their universe, this conversation, everything. Trying to push him away, saying, “If by limitations you mean the difference between sanity and insanity... I don’t accept that.” A fleeting eye contact with Hannibal, and he had to look away, over his shoulder. Wanting to escape this conversation. Move past it. But, but there was something. Something important to it.

“What do you accept?” Hannibal, always prompting, always wanting his interpretation. Making Will admit to things. This is why he liked him so much, why he could be honest in this setting. While it made him want to escape the situation, he knew the conversations were much more useful, they made him confront things otherwise he would keep buried.

“I know what kind of crazy I am and this is not that kind of crazy.” Unwilling to see the doubt in Hannibal’s face he turned away, “This could be seizures. This could be a tumor.” Pushing away from the ladder, closer to Hannibal, continuing the desperate plea for it to be something medical, “A .. a blood clot.” Everything but the diagnosis of mental illness. 

“I can recommend a neurologist.”

 

~~  
Getting through the MRI was a lot more nerve wracking that Will expected. Hallucinating pulling Beth LeBeau under her own bed. He really was done with today. Contaminating a crime scene, upsetting Jack and turning his concerned gaze on him had been a lot. 

Being rude to his face wasn’t as nice either. He truly disliked disrupting this ‘stability’ as Jack called it. Teaching and trying to catch the killers—saving lives—no matter how it was bad for him, ultimately was good for him. 

And then Dr. Sutcliffe had to go and lie to him.

“We didn’t find anything abnormal. No vascular malformations, no tumors. No swelling or bleeding. No evidence of stroke. Nothing wrong with you neurologically.” 

Will frowned at the scans, looking them over. No. They were wrong. He stepped closer, looking at the pictures of the brain, listening to the doctor continue talking.

“Usually when I tell a patient that, they’re happy to hear it.”

Something was very wrong. Will had had a brain scan before, in New Orleans, and he remembered it. Too well in fact, it had featured in his nightmares for long enough, that he could tell with a certainty that the brainscan Dr. Sutcliffe was showing him wasn’t his.

He needed time to think, to consider things. Will didn’t need to play up being upset, all he had to do was muddle through, “So .. what I’m experiencing is psychological?”

 

~~  
The realization hit him not ten steps later, outside Dr. Sutcliffe’s office. 

The reason for him lying, the reason for someone else’s brain scans, the two of them talking and talking while Will was in the MRI machine, the curiosity of the human mind under duress. It seemed so unlikely, but at the same time so fitting.

Will gulped, almost stumbling, moving the two steps required until the closest bathroom and got inside one of the stalls, gasping. Trying to have breath in his lungs.

The one person who knew so much, a doctor none-the-less, and skipping over all the medically valid options, repeating that all of this, all of it was mental illness. The betrayal hurt. 

Hannibal was the first person Will had thought of calling as soon as he realized that Dr. Sutcliffe lied, he was the first and the last person Will would have trusted with this. The person who held all the power in this situation. 

He was here, somewhere in the building, looking for Will, no doubt.

Almost hyperventilating, Will slid to the ground, hugging his knees. The chill from the floor tiles eventually brought him back. It chilled his thoughts as well. It also let him feel the subtle tells of a fever. So this was definitely medical. And something to be deal with now, instead of later. 

He disliked leaving the case, but it had to be done. He hoped that evidence turned over enough to help apprehend the killer before he could be back at work.

And Hannibal. Well, Will would think what to do with him later. This betrayal was unnecessary, but it intrigued him as well. Why would he want to manipulate the situation such.

 

~~  
Hannibal had tried to reassure him, but Will brushed him off, almost running away from the medical center, ready to get as far as he could.

He drove home. 

While the mystery of Beth LeBeau’s murder would have lured him back to the crime scene, he put his survival first. 

Feeding the dogs, he called the closest neighbours he had and arranged for someone to come feed them and walk them until he got back. He could have asked Alana for it, but she was too close to both the FBI and Hannibal. 

Better that no one knew where he was going until he had some answers.

 

~~  
Richmond was in the opposite direction of Baltimore. He was running away from Hannibal, wanting the distance between them to be more than real.

Checking himself into a hospital turned out to be easier than he expected—having a seizure in the emergency room instead of I-95 let him admitted and sent for another brain scan. Having non-FBI affiliated health insurance also didn’t notify anyone who might be looking for him. Realistically though, no one would, not until sometime tomorrow when he would fail to show up for a meeting with Jack at Quantico.

Until then all he had to do was wait for a doctor to say what exactly was wrong with him. A persistent thought kept saying that they would not find anything, and he had overreacted. That Hannibal would not betray him, that all of this was really stress of returning to field work.

Staring at the ceiling, trying to filter out rambles from his roommate from the other side to the privacy curtain, Will tried to unravel why would Hannibal and Dr. Sutcliffe pull something like this. Because on his own he wouldn’t have—something pushed him, and that something was most likely Hannibal. He had the presence for it. Manipulation. 

Will remembered asking Hannibal if he was trying to alienate him from Jack. It had followed his first sleepwalking episode. 

 

~~  
Encephalitis. 

The full diagnosis has a longer name, but Will had stopped listening. He was relieved, feeling tears in his eyes. Something was wrong with him, and not mentally. Hearing the doctor list the corresponding symptoms he has to flinch at each and every one.

Fits, if fucking fits. Despair has a particular taste in the air. He has a wish to grab the nearest phone, dial Hannibal’s number and scream ‘liar’ towards him, never listening to explanations. He curbs the wish, nodding towards the doctor and the proposed treatment.

 

~~  
It’s Alana that find him first.

He’s on a second dose of a medical cocktail, floating between consciousness and darkness. The stag keeps walking past his room, huffing a cold breath, throwing snow to the ground. Will has to remind himself that Hannibal wouldn’t actually do anything to him. That he wasn’t that kind of person. 

But why would he lie? Why would he betray Will so? Why was Will suddenly afraid of him?

A smile towards Alana when he felt more awake. A return smile made him blink again and realize that it was actually Alana there, and not another hallucination. “Hi.” Extending a hand, he pulled the glass of ice chips closer to him. 

“Hi.” She seemed stuck someplace between confused and upset and relieved, Will couldn’t pinpoint it. It was probably all three at the same time. He could imagine the reason for confusion easily, but at the moment the upset and the relief were harder.

“I’m gonna be alright.” He tried to reassure her in return.

“Yes. Why are you here, Will?” A frown, and the confusion overwhelmed all other emotions.

“Umm, because I’m sick. Alana ..” He lost the end of the sentence, unsure what he wanted to say. Keeping quiet and letting Alana talk seemed more important at the moment.

“No, I mean why are you _here_ , in a hospital in Richmond? I—I tried calling Hannibal, but he hadn’t heard from you either, not since your session. I had to get Jack to search area hospitals until we found you.”

Will blinked. Another lie. The last time he had seen Hannibal was after Dr. Sutcliffe’s false diagnosis. Was he right to fear for his life?

“Did .. does Hannibal know I’m here?” Will swallowed a few more ice chips, avoiding Alana’s gaze.

“I called him as soon as we knew. What is going on, Will?” 

With a sigh, he turned back towards Alana. Finding a soft smile from the depths of his feelings, Will shook his head, “Nothing. I just .. needed to get away from everything. And then—I had a seizure in the er. The docs sent me for a brain scan. After that, well, they wouldn’t just let me go.” Shrugging, he felt the IV lines move, reminding him about their existence. Them and all the drugs were being pumped into him, to battle everything the encephalitis had already done to him.

 

~~  
A week in the hospital, and Hannibal hadn’t visited once. Alana had insisted of transferring him to a hospital in Baltimore, but both Will and doctors objected. 

It was on a drive home that Will had to stop at a rest stop, to vomit into the bushes. 

The Copycat killer, the missing organs. Linking it up with the Chesapeake Ripper had seemed easy after that. Recalling that first breakfast with Hannibal, the protein scramble, and Will had to retch once more. 

Stumbling back to the car, he slumped against it, pulling a water bottle from the back seat. Returning home mean a return to work, to his dogs. It also mean a return to Hannibal, to the Ripper. 

He knew logically that there was no evidence. None. Miriam Lass had been looking into private medical records of Ripper’s known victims, and he was more than sure, that Hannibal had already corrected whatever it was the she uncovered. 

Getting Hannibal to confess would be useless. If he was this careful, this connected to the current investigations, he wouldn’t let it slip, no way. Confronting him would no doubt end in Will’s death. Tobias Budge had proven that. 

Back on the road, Will tried to understand his motivations. Why lie about Will to Alana? Why the deceit with the brain scans? Why, why, why? What was his agenda, his purpose in manipulating Will?

Whatever it was, Hannibal seemed to be pulling away from him. Will taking control made him pull away. 

He recalled a conversation, one session before their last, about how they were both killed. How much had Hannibal talked about it. That, and alienation from Jack, getting immersed in the minds of the killers, Hannibal almost prodding him closer and closer to it all. 

Was Hannibal trying to groom a companion? An opponent? Or was he simply playing with food? Will was determined to find it out. Having the knowledge gave him advantage.

He could show Hannibal, that he wasn’t the only one good at manipulation. At playing with food.

 

~~  
Will had been home less than three hours when Jack called him. Abel Gideon, the supposed Chesapeake Ripper had broken out of custody. 

Well, this was bound to be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> got a prompt? send it in on tumblr ♥️
> 
> if you like any of the ficlets/fics i've written you can totally continue/expand them, write more & follow-ups to them, to create art or podfic of anything else. if you do, you should totally let me know, i'd love to see it and link it here!


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